


A Little of Your Time

by Waterfall



Category: Doctor Who, The Sandman
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-28
Updated: 2008-10-28
Packaged: 2017-10-02 02:29:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waterfall/pseuds/Waterfall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After having lost his best and longest friend Hob Gadling doesn't quite know what to do with himself. That is, until he meets a peculiar young man in a bar and is offered the trip of his life...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little of Your Time

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** A Little of Your Time  
> **Fandom:** Doctor Who/The Sandman  
> **Characters:** Robert (Hob) Gadling, The Fifth Doctor, Tegan, Nyssa, and Adric  
> **Word count:** 1492  
> **Rating:** G  
> **Crossovers100 prompt:** #088 – He  
> **Disclaimer:** The characters and locations portrayed here are not mine. Doctor Who belongs to the BBC and The Sandman belongs to Vertigo and Neil Gaiman. This is a fan authored work and no profit is being made. Please do not archive this story without my permission.   
> **Author’s Notes:** Written for rapunzelita for the 2008 dw_cross ficathon on LJ, and also used for the crossovers100 challenge on LJ.   
> This fic turned out to have two different writing styles, probably because part of it was written when I still had time to spare, and rest of it the night before deadline. :~) It also didn’t turn out quite how I wanted it, but I hope it’s still entertaining.  
> Thanks to vell_delarose, Ingvild, and my mum for betaing at very short notice.

_2089\. A pub somewhere in London._  
Hob Gadling leaned back into the wall, took a sip of his pint, and cursed himself for a fool. He hadn’t wanted to come, but as the time grew nearer he’d found himself drawn to the pub by a mixture of helpless grief and impossible hope. Around him there was noise and laughter, the crowded push of people being… well, people. Much had changed in the 700 or so years of Hob’s life, but certain essentials things stayed the same.  
“Yeah,” he scoffed quietly. “We’re all fools in the end.”  
“Now that’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?”

Lifting his head so fast that he almost spilled his beer, Hob looked up at the man who had somehow approached him without making himself noticed. The man gave Hob a pleasant smile, seemingly unfazed by the close scrutiny. His hands were resting comfortably in the trouser pockets of his beige cricket outfit and he was leaning nonchalantly against the wall, the fringe of his blond hair casting a shadow over his eyes.  
“Go to Hell,” Hob told him, too tired to feel any more than a slight annoyance at this intrusion. The man’s smile, however, didn’t waver.  
“I can’t do that. You see, I think you’re exactly the man I’m looking for.”  
Ah. So he was one of those guys, then.  
“I think not. I bat for the other team.”  
Big, brown eyes blinked innocently down at him.  
“Sorry?”  
Great, Hob sighed, he really had to spell it out to this one. He’d thought that a sports-related metaphor would do the trick.  
“I like girls,” he informed the man, speaking as if to a half-wit. “I’m not gay. You’ll have to bat your eyelashes at someone else.”  
He couldn’t help but grin as understanding blossomed across the man’s face, followed by a blush.  
“Oh! Is that what..? Oh, no,” he stammered. “I – it’s not like that at all!”  
“Really.” Hob raised an eyebrow, enjoying himself almost against his will. The man gave an aggravated huff.  
“Yes, really. I believe we have a common acquaintance. A young, pale woman dressed in black, she usually wears an ankh?”  
“You know _her_?  
“Charming young lady, isn’t she?” The man smiled again, extending his hand. “I’m the Doctor, by the way.”  
His curiosity roused, Hob shook the Doctor’s hand.  
“Robert Gadling. What did she say to you?”  
“Well, the last time I met her she mentioned that you might need a friend at this time.”  
“Did she now?” Giving the Doctor another searching look, Hob thought it over. Then he pulled out a chair from under the table, and waved his hand towards it. “In that case, you’d better sit down and have a drink.”

~*~

A few hours later the two new friends left the bar, meandering down the street and around a corner, stopping in front of an old blue police box.  
“I still don’t believe that a box like this can travel through space and time,” Hob commented, knocking at the wooden door. “I mean – woah!”  
He jumped back as the door opened and a young woman stuck her head out.  
“Yes?” she snapped.  
“Um…”  
The Doctor sighed.  
“Hello, Tegan.” Stepping through the door, he motioned for Hob to follow him. “Come in, come in!”  
Walking into the Doctor’s spaceship was like walking into a dream – very much so, in fact. It was nothing like the dream king’s castle, but still gave him that same feeling of otherworldliness.   
“Wow!” He turned on the spot, taking in the size of the room and its alien appearance.  
“It’s impressive, isn’t it?” a soft-spoken young woman asked him, a twinkle in her eye. The young boy next to her gave a snort.  
“Not if you’ve seen the temple of Fnaxy.”  
“Adric!” both women exclaimed. The boy gave them an innocent look.  
“What? It is!”  
Next to Hob, the Doctor sighed and rolled his eyes.  
“Tegan! Nyssa! Adric! If you don’t mind? We have a guest.”  
And just like that, the situation wasn’t so alien anymore.

~*~

It was supposed to be just one trip in the TARDIS – to cheer him up a bit, the Doctor said. But their first stop was a planet divided by war, which wasn’t cheerful in the least. At least Hob had found a more positive use for the weapon skills he’s picked up throughout the years, although the Doctor had objected to him using any weapons at all. Only mellowing when Nyssa pointed out that he’d saved them all from a slow and painful death, the Doctor had then decided to make another try for a pleasant outing.  
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Tegan had told Hob, making sure that the Doctor overheard her.

She was only half right, as they enjoyed almost a full day of sun at the beach before being surrounded by natives and marched away. It was such a shame, Hob mused, as it would probably be the only time he ever saw green water and red sand. The four-clawed crabs had been a slight drawback, but they’d turned out to be very tasty so that was all right. In the end the little group had escaped of course, this time by the aid of Adric’s and the Doctor’s computer skills. The natives’ god had turned out to be a robot constructed by a long-dead civilisation, and reprogramming it so that it didn’t want to kill random strangers had been a piece of cake, apparently.

By now Hob had detected a pattern, and asked (quite reasonably, in his opinion) to be let off outside the pub where he’d joined the TARDIS crew. Five attempts later, he still wanted to go home, but had resigned himself to the idea that it might take a while. Tegan’s frequent references to Heathrow didn’t exactly help in that respect, but if nothing else, he had to give the Doctor credit for trying. It wasn’t such a bad life, really – well, except for having to constantly run for their lives. Thinking about it, he had to admit to himself that this was the closest thing he’d had to a family since Gwen left him, unable to handle the fact that he would never die unless he wanted to.

So instead he threw himself into life in the TARDIS, running and talking and fighting to make the universe a little bit better. It wasn’t exactly his thing, but the Doctor had a tendency to bring out the best in everyone. Hob had long discussions with Nyssa about history, politics, and philosophy, fascinated and flattered by her interest. He had a short, passionate fling with Tegan, carefully not telling her how she reminded him of a girlfriend he’d had in the late 1980’s. And since the Doctor seemed unwilling or unable to do so, Hob took Adric aside for a few chats about the things he felt a young man should know. All in all, it was quite difficult to leave when they finally landed a few streets away from the pub where he’d first met his new friend.

~*~

“Well, I suppose that’s it,” Hob commented, a leather-like bag full of souvenirs and memorabilia clutched in his hand. Nyssa, who had been hovering by his side, touched his arm gently.  
“Goodbye, then.”   
Impulsively he bent down and gave her a hug, which she returned in full.  
“Goodbye, Nyssa.” He turned to Adric, and extended his hand. “Goodbye, Adric.” They shook hands, and the boy gave him what in his mind must have been a firm, manly nod. Tegan also shook his hand, and he smiled, remembering a more private goodbye last night.  
“When you get back to your own time, look me up,” he told her with a wink. She laughed, and he could tell that she didn’t take him seriously.  
“Sure.”  
The Doctor opened the door and escorted him outside.  
“Are you certain you don’t want one final trip?” he tempted. Hob laughed, shaking his head.  
“No thank you! Come back in a hundred years and we’ll see.”  
He made the suggestion jokingly, but meant it sincerely. The Doctor and he were alike in many ways, and although Hob had never been cut out for the kind of life his friends were leading, it was still nice to have some otherworldly company every hundred years or so. Lucky for him, the Doctor seemed to feel the same way, answering with a laugh of his own.  
“I might take you up on that.”

A short while later the TARDIS disappeared with an ungodly sound and Hob was left on his own, clutching an alien bag full of alien things. Taking a deep breath he started walking towards the pub, whistling as he went. He was already making a list of things to do; the most important was to find out exactly what date it was – or what year, for that matter. Now if he could just find a newspaper…


End file.
